


A Good Man

by dorrinverrakai1



Category: Snowpiercer (2013)
Genre: F/M, Past Rape/Non-con, questionable use of human remains, shameless theivery of Indiefic's themes and characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorrinverrakai1/pseuds/dorrinverrakai1
Summary: For Indiefic
This story starts post train wreck and uses Indiefic's original character Anna Gilliam.
She stares at Curtis again. She knows him. A good man. She understands how power works. She's chosen her literal bed to lie in. Only one problem remains, how do you break a good man?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indiefic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Balance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792604) by [indiefic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/pseuds/indiefic). 



Wilford is gone. The train is gone. Life as she knew it is gone. One hell traded for another. Oppression ended, hypothermia beginning.

Ok. The train is still there... more or less. It's just a bent pile of metal, folded, and stacking. But the cold is real. Very real.

The survivors of the wreck huddle together for warmth and crudely nursing wounds as best they can. The dead litter the ground, most bodies still stuck within the wreckage. Those able bodied enough drag the dead into piles. Those from the front soon to face a taste of the same hellish nightmare inflicted upon the tail for years.

More people from the tail survived than not. Together they worked to pillage the train for usable items. Someone has made a fire from the wreckage and slowly the survivors drift towards it. 

That's where he is. The man who changed everything. The only one who could. Curtis Everett. A good man.

Anna stares at him as he stands by the fire. Already he's assumed command. All survivors looking to him for direction, whether front or tail. There are no divisions now.

He took Wilford's head. Anna isn't sure what other barbaric rituals he may have in store but she feels hope for the first time in a long time.

She knows him. He has no idea who she is but she's watched him for years. Stuck where she was between Gilliam, her father, and Wilford, her husband or his bitch as she's most commonly referred. She was just 16 years old when Wilford claimed her. He'd told her father it was for the best. He'd protect her while Gilliam did his part in the tail. A trade off. One she never wanted. 

Within the week Wilford's sick and twisted games began. Anna's one source of pride is knowing she was never complicit. An annoyance to the point she was commonly locked in a closet for days and muzzled. She tread the line of annoyance on the razors edge, never pushing so far as to face execution. 

No children. She's not entirely sure if that's Wilford's fault or her own but she's poisendherself everyday in the hopes to never bring his seed to life. Some people took pity on her that far at least. A few of the cleaning girls brought her supplies.

But here she is alive, Wilford dead. One nightmare ended, a new freezing existence beginning. She stares at Curtis again. She knows him. A good man. She understands how power works. She's chosen her literal bed to lie in. Only one problem remains, how do you break a good man?

Anna looks into the reflective siding of the train and tries to clean up as best she can. She scrubs dirt and blood from her face with ice and snow. She was one of the "lucky" ones on this god forsaken train. She'd escaped with a scalp wound, a bloody nose, and a very sore arm. Anna knows she's not quite the same little vixen that tempted Wilford so but her current condition will have to do. She finger combs her hair and stares into her reflection, determination bright in her eyes. Her destiny will be her own this time. She'd make sure of it.

Dusk is closing and the temperature is dropping quickly. Around the bonfire where Curtis stands, people have been working steadily making that folded section of train into a make shift shelter. Giant sheets of metal and fabric from the train salvaged and forming open tents snugged up against the crash. Smaller fires ring the large one. At each small fire, a tail section survivor seared meat of questionable origin. No one wants to contemplate where dinner is coming from for too long. Survivors continue to work in groups salvaging what they can as the last light of day fades. Each work group headed by a tail member while the spoiled fat fucks from the front take any sort of direction.

Some of Wilford's goons and anyone formerly a guard are hog tied near the bonfire. Bloody questioning continues, as Curtis learns all the secrets left from the train. Surely they'd all be executed before morning, too dangerous to be left alive. Blood and fire birthing a new society in the train's ashes.

Anna picked out a fire and walked to it. Not at random but with purpose. Every move must have purpose now to secure her future. She'd noticed earlier which of the hangers on Curtis spoke with. She'd paid close attention to his moves all day as she'd worked to salvage with the other survivors. She had a good idea now whom Curtis trusted. She saw their women. A couple kids. She went to their fire.

She helped to cook and kept her mouth closed. Depressingly all meat smelled the same when seared. She tried not to dwell on it. She's just thankful she hadn't helped with that harvest. She helps to hack meat for the children and herself. She eats quietly, gagging twice. No one can afford to turn down what's offered now.

She'd stripped a coat, pants, boots, and gloves for herself off one of the guards earlier. Everything is too big but she's grateful for the additional layer. She wraps the oversize coat more closely around herself and stands close to the fire, keeping an eye on the meat left warming near. She's waiting for him to come. She knows he'll chose this fire.

It's long dark and the kids are asleep when finally Curtis comes. They've executed the remaining guards and cronies as she knew they would. The survivors can't afford any mistakes or dissension. The rule of might is at hand.

Several men come with Curtis and Anna serves them portions from the meat she's been tending all evening on several plates scavenged earlier. She hands Curtis his plate with more care, meeting his eyes, brushing his hand with her own. She catches his eyes and holds them for a few moments before he ducks his head. She's not sure how effective her touch is through the barrier of gloves but she makes the extra effort. She knows she's a "nice piece of ass." She's heard it enough times from Wilford and his guards. She's endured their attention for years. She might not have the same looks as she did but she is well versed in what men want.

Curtis and the men eat quietly. He gives a few terse orders when they're done and several of the men peal off with their pilfered guns to the other smaller fires rimming their makeshift camp, setting up a perimeter or security.

As they leave Anna hands Curtis a metal cup of tea. She'd manage to salvage the tea and various odds and ends from the smashed cart she'd shared with Wilford, remnants of her past life. He gazes at her again without speaking. He closes his eyes at his first sip, obviously relishing the novelty, savoring the experience. As he sips from his mug, Anna sits next to him. She has a cleanish piece of cloth and another mug of warm water. Anna slowly and deliberately cleans the wound on the side of his face. Curtis closes his eyes and sets his mug down next to him. He makes no move to stop her and Anna continues to bathe his face, his beard, the blood from his closely cropped hair. She takes his hands one at a time and cleans those to. Curtis is looking at her now and Anna wonders what he sees, what he's thinking. Anna continues to hold his slightly cleaner hands and meets his eyes. His gaze is soul weary and bone tired but also questioning. It'll have to do. Her chance is now.

Anna stands and tugs Curtis with her. She leads him to a pile of blankets on the edge of the fire that she made earlier. It's as private as they're going to get in their new world. It's darker here and fire light flickers across their faces making it hard to see his eyes. Anna peals back the top covers and unbuttons her own coat shrugging out of it, braving the cold for a few moments a small price to pay. Curtis stands docilely in front of her as she unbuttons his coat and urges it down his shoulders and arms, dropping it to rest near her own. She brusquely drops her pants, kicking them and her boots into the same pile as the coats. She reaches out and unbuttons his pants, pushing him down his hips. He toes out of his own boots and kicks away his pants as she did earlier.

Anna quickly settles herself into the makeshift bed and keeps the covers back in invitation. When she's settled Curtis joins her, resting next to her on his side and brings the covers up. He still hasn't said a word. His silence is unnerving and not for the first time this evening, Anna wonders what he's thinking. She wishes she could see his eyes.

Anna reaches up and cups his face. He leans into her touch and Anna's sure if she could see that he's closed his eyes again. She imagines his expression as it was when he tasted warm tea again for the first time in years. Anna is surprised herself, feeling a thrill of unexpected anticipation. Her first partner of her choice. She's beyond wet and shifts restlessly. He remains passive, waiting for some unknown signal.

She draw his face closer and he slowly ducks his head, kissing her slowly and gently. His beard is soft and scratchy at the same time, tickling her. A soft breathy moan surprises her and she tugs his shirt seeking more contact. It's clear her soft, helpless sounds excite him. He kisses her harder as he centers himself over her. She unconsciously parts her legs making room for him. He presses his hips into the cradle of her own and she's gratified to feel him against her, hard and ready. She's pleased beyond words to feel the proof that he's enjoying her attention. She arches up, trying to rub herself against him desperate for any sort of pressure. He moves his kisses down her neck and grinds himself down against her. She's vaguely aware that she's moaning again. She doesn't care. The pleasure when he grinds down on her is more than she's ever felt before. She doesn't even know when it happened but her legs are drawn up and her heels press into his hips urging him against her. She scratches at his back and tugs his shirt as he sucks on her neck, burying his face into the juncture with her shoulder.

Suddenly he rears up and she whines as space opens between them. He quickly jerks his shirt over his head. He pushes her shirt over her breasts and stares. He cups both breasts and presses his face in between them and groans. Clearly he likes what he sees. Anna bites her lip as me moves his face over her breasts tickling with his beard and leaving wet sucking kisses. Paying each nipple equal attention, leaving them hard little points.

With her help, he scoots her panties down her legs and quickly shoves his own shorts down as well. Once he's free, she grasps him in her hand and strokes him gently. She presses her thumb over the head of his cock, smearing around the seed beading there. His mouth is gaped open and he pushes up into her hand. She stokes him again and he groans. He bats away her hands and holds them up above her head. He kisses her again and positions himself between her legs. He lets go of her hands and she grasps his bottom digging her nails in as he pushes slowly inside, making room. He pauses for her once he's fully in and kisses her again before gently starting to rock into her. His gentle attention has her completely undone. No one has ever had her like this. She's never experienced anything close before. She's already so close, balancing on the razors edge. She can feel herself squeezing hard on him as he moves. He reaches his right hand between them picking up the pace of his hips with each thrust. He strokes her clit once, twice... and she comes hard. He lets out a strangled groan thrusting up into her a few more times before reaching as deeply as he can and going rigid and still.

He continues to lay on top of her limp. She holds him with her legs and strokes his back. She hopes he found some solace and respite from the horrors of life just as she did. He finally pulls back, exiting her body, he kisses her gently. They rearrange until Curtis is on his back and Anna rests against his side her head on his chest, his arms around her. Never before in her life, has Anna ever cuddled with a lover. She chose him and she's not letting go. A good man.


End file.
